


while it is rife, while it is light

by light_rises



Series: the kids are (not) alright [1]
Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Conversations, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Post-Canon (for Chapter 1), Prehensile Outerwear, Regret, Student & Mentor Dynamic if you squint, Tea, that one brand of demi-nihilism that's all "Nothing Matters My Dude so try not to be a dick"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 12:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17264135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: It was plain as Dark that what hereallywanted was someone to talk to, and... it seemed silly, this kid hiding behind pretense, like he was embarrassed to admit that keeping vigil in his empty little slice of the realm got lonely sometimes. But you never bothered calling him out on it. There was no point, and it's not like you minded the company. Indulging him was as good as anything else you could be doing.--After the fabled Lightners drop in then leave, Ralsei stops by Seam's shop. They both have tea and a normal conversation, until it's hardly normal at all.





	while it is rife, while it is light

Sometimes—and you'd call it occasional if anything—the self-proclaimed prince from Castle Town would pay your shop a visit.

His excuse was usually the same, that he'd hate to waste perfectly good cake just because he can't hog it all to himself and, y'know, it's nice to share, isn't it? By the by, he'd go, how _are_ you doing, Mx. Seam? ( _"Mx."? Ha ha, haven't gotten that one before. So formal, though._ ) Find any new junk to sell? ( _Not a lick._ ) Oh... well, I hope you luck out by the time I'm making the rounds again! ( _Not betting on it, but feel free to knock yourself out. Ha ha ha._ )

It was plain as Dark that what he _really_ wanted was someone to talk to, and... it seemed silly, this kid hiding behind pretense, like he was embarrassed to admit that keeping vigil in his empty little slice of the realm got lonely sometimes. But you never bothered calling him out on it. There was no point, and it's not like you minded the company. Indulging him was as good as anything else you could be doing.

Then one day—one day, he brought friends. Lightners; the real deal. You're too numb to surprise, to the wanton promise of Something New and the ways it can trick you into hanging your hopes anywhere, so you just raised your brows and filed that development away. If you're lucky, _very_ lucky, you'll get to cash that in later. But right then you just indulged these kids too, like it was nothing. Because it was. It will never be more than that, most likely. This, you thought, is just your lot in life, old Seam.

And then there's now. It's heralded by the mild commotion of someone coming in, with you slouching forward and thinking nothing of it until you see a flash of—oh. It startles your ears into pricking up, just a little.

"Back so soon?" you say. The prince is gingerly backing his way into the shop—you can't tell why yet—but you don't hear more pairs of feet trouncing alongside his, so... he's alone again. The length of scarf hanging off his back flicks up and gives you a little wave.

"I figured that what happened yesterday calls for festivities!" he says, over his shoulder. "Or, I guess it's more like a little something I'm giving to everyone, to celebrate." He finally spins to face you, now that he has enough room for it. Both his paws are occupied with carrying a tray, wide and square and covered. Whatever's under there is kind of on the short side, compared to the cakes he's wont to bring. "Um... I'm sorry if I'm imposing this time," he adds. The pleasant arch to his smile has turned sheepish. "I know we—I came back a lot yesterday too, I wouldn't blame you for thinking this is a little much."

You wave him off. "S'all the same to me. You know that never changes."

In retrospect, you hope that came across kindly enough. Ralsei shrugs without dropping his smile regardless, then he pops open the tray's lid with one end of his scarf and plops something onto your counter.

You stare at it for a beat. "... Cupcake?"

"It might be on-the-nose," he says, "but trying something different felt... appropriate! Plus, it was fun." His scarf replaces the lid, with the care of a perfectly normal hand (or, paw in this case, you suppose). The prince then edges towards a cleared-off section of your counter before hesitating. "Uh, may I... ?" he asks, holding up the tray for clarity.

"Be my guest," you say. While he's busy setting down his cupcakes, you lean into your own. You give it a squint, then as good a sniff as you're able. It smells wonderful, of course: chocolate, with orange zest and cardamom swirled into the buttercream, if you're not missing your guess. "Mm. This calls for tea, I think. Care for any?"

"Sure! Though I, uh, hope you won't be pulling from your 'end of the world' stash?" He says this with a breathy little laugh; the words are probably as much a gentle tease as they are earnest, knowing what you do of the prince.

"Hee hee. Nah, you won't see me hauling _that_ out all willy-nilly." With that, you turn to a low shelf and paw through the tiny stack of tea boxes you've wedged in there. They're all bagged, nothing to write home about—the loose leaves you have are stored elsewhere and, well, they literally _are_ your "toast to the end of the world" stash—but you know from experience that the prince isn't picky. Or, you suppose the kinder way to put it is that he's gracious. Either way, once it's ready a few minutes later he accepts the cup of Darjeeling with a smile and a "thank you". The two of you proceed to tuck into your cupcakes, sip your teas. Just silent companionship, for a moment or so.

Then, softly, Ralsei clears his throat. "So," he says, "what do you think of them?"

His tone makes it obvious he isn't talking about the cupcakes. You frown and lean back. "Your Lightner companions?" you ask, to be sure.

"Mmhmm."

Your frown deepens. "You're asking _me_?"

"I am! I can count on you to be honest."

That's funny, you think. In theory you _should_ be flattered, for him to think highly enough of you to value your candor. But, why? Because you're old? World-weary? That would be silly; all you do is sit in your shop or mill around collecting odds and ends when you're not. And it's not as if you're friends, though you like him well enough.

With a hum, you tap a thumb to one side of your mouth and rub, doing a perfunctory job of minding the loose stitches there. Well. Pointless is as pointless does, whether or not he's patronizing you. If Ralsei _really_ wants your honesty... "I don't remember the prophecy saying anything about the human leading the 'heroes'," you say. "Deferring to a Lightner I get, but then why not the monster? She commanded a presence, that one."

The prince tilts his head, finally frowning. "Are you implying that Kris isn't doing a good job?"

"Not at all. I'm just curious."

The frown drops as he scratches the side of his head. "Theeere's a longer answer to that one," he says, "but." He pauses, nostrils flaring with a sigh, then pins you with a steady look. "Mx. Seam..."

You sigh too. "Just call me 'Seam'."

"Oh! Of course." He inhales, sharply, fingers tapping together into a tent. "Seam, you're versed in more than just the prophecy. You know about the basic mechanics of... well, fate, once a human soul is added to the equation." His smile thins out a little, though it's no less sincere. "I think you understand as well as I do why it has to be this way."

He's right, of course. You do. It gets you... thinking.

"Mmm. Must be quite the burden," you muse, "one young soul slated to lead the charge of everyone's fate. Of their _friends'_ fate, to boot."

"I can only imagine." His expression turns rueful, a bit pained. "Kris has been really... they're courageous. Loyal too, and—this could be wishful thinking, but they seem to like it here? I know Susie does, even if she won't admit it, heh. Speaking of, I've been thinking about how she's more of a grounding force for our team than she realizes? I should go over that with her the next time she's—" Ralsei stops, then blinks before aiming a scowl at you. "H-hey now! You got me all caught up in talking about how _I_ feel."

You chuckle. "Can't take all the credit for that," you say, winking. "But really now, that's how it should be, eh? You don't want to hear _me_ ramble like I know anything about kids I've spent, what, all of ten minutes with? They're _your_ prophecy-mates. I just run my shop."

His shoulders hitch up a little as a blush rises to his cheeks, through the pitch and rainbow-shimmery glamour he tends to favor. "Ha. I guess that's fair enough."

You both lapse into silence. The prince drops his gaze to his teacup, revolving it between his paws over and over as often as he takes sips from it. His cupcake is already gone; you finish yours and lick the excess frosting off the wrapper it came in, not bothering to be dainty about it.

"... Hmm. Feels like you've got something else on your mind," you say. To be frank, you've been suspecting that since the moment he stepped in. He doesn't strike you as the type to hold grudges, but... you _did_ fail to help with the kingdom-wide rally at Card Castle when you were asked. You didn't stop by later to see the Lightners off, either. Even Ralsei might feel a little hurt by that, all things considered.

Whichever the case, you're at least half-right—he starts and looks up, seeming for all the world like he's been caught out. "It's that obvious, huh?" he says, with a nervous laugh.

"Come now, I won't judge. I'm not in the business of doing that."

He nods, whooshing out a long breath. "In that case..." he says, with a pause to look away and drum his claws against the countertop, "I was trying to think of the best way to say this, but I guess I should go ahead and be out with it, right?" He brings his paws together, fingers meshing as he says, "I wanted to thank you."

Your brows climb higher than they have in a long while. "For what? Cramming your friend's inventory with all the junk I sold 'em?"

He laughs. "Well, your Darkburgers _did_ end up saving our skin a few times, so yes, that too."

"The human paid, I sold," you say with a shrug. "That's just business, friend."

"Of course." Ralsei scratches the side of his nose, the look on his face sobering. "Actually—I'm having trouble finding the right words for this, so if you could bear with me, please? But... you know what I said earlier, about counting on you to be honest? That's the heart of it. I really... I admire that about you." He looks down at his teacup again, at the dark settling dredges. "I know you don't see much of a future for any of us," he says, "and you don't pretend otherwise, not for anyone. Not for us Heroes. And you hold to that while being kind, you know? Yesterday you looked at me and Susie and Kris, and—you wished us well anyway. Invited us over for tea if we ever realized our folly." His eyes dart up, shining and earnest, peering at you over the rims of his glasses. "It's very comforting in a way, knowing we'd have a friend like you to turn to if the worst happens."

You have no idea what to say at first. There's the whole "considers you a friend" bit (a _real_ friend, because Ralsei wouldn't make that distinction carelessly), and that's a handful on its own, but also... also. One other tiny thing he mentioned is nagging at you, oddly acute. That you're so hung up on it gets you talking again.

"Is it... really fair," you say, with an effort that feels unearned, and your smile feels _so brittle_ , "to call me 'kind', with all that's happened? Is it accurate?"

There's a split second where Ralsei looks like he's about to object—a kneejerk "Of course it is!" is what you'd bet—but he catches himself. Then it's as if chagrin smacks him upside the head. In the space of moments, he eases into a look of sympathy that _should_ be cloying but isn't somehow. "That wasn't your fault, though," he says. "You didn't have a choice in locking him away."

"Did I, now?" You're not saying this to be contrary, at least not really. It's you thinking over the mechanics of an old calamity and your place in them. "The ship's long sailed for whatever's been done to his head," you say, absently eyeing the tattered drapery above you, "but with you kids managing to wear him down I have to wonder... if I had tried—no. If I _did_ work myself up to that sheer force of gumption; what if that? I could've demurred orders, stooped to his level of play to keep him out of trouble. Or both of us, I suppose. I would've had to do it again and again, over and over until either _he_ got bored after the nth round or _I_ fell apart at the—well." Your languid smile turns grim. "That's not the worst way to go by a long shot, ha ha."

When you look back to Ralsei, he's pinning you with a faintly horrified stare that he's doing a very bad job of concealing. "N-not to presume I can speak for Jevil," he says, after a too-long pause, "but... you have so much history with him, compared to us. Even if it meant he wouldn't have to be alone, I'm sure knowing you might destroy yourself to make it possible wouldn't've made him happy, right?" His eyes go downturned as he averts them, as he tries to stop worrying his paws until they're just clasping each other. "I know I wouldn't be," he adds, in a low voice.

It's tempting to brush this off with some breezy skepticism and change the subject, because of course and _what else_ is there to say about any of this, but... you take your own turn at tilting your head. He's a strange one, this boy. Why all this sudden fuss over _you_ , like it matters? Then again, you reckon that's just in Ralsei's nature. With bona fide Lightners to serve now (and with that, the cogs of his Destiny Apparent set into motion) he's probably all the more keen on caretaking, for better or worse.

... Hmm. His "nature". This makes his words click into place in a way that's sticking in your cotton. And of all things it's making you want to stick your _nose_ where it doesn't belong, but— _ha_. Ha ha. That's a funny one. You've already helped these kids free Jevil, with your blessing even. What's another poke at the hornet's nest between now and the end?

So you answer Ralsei with, "Can't say I can speak for him either. But, a thought, while we're on the subject: what about taking your _own_ advice?"

He looks so damn _gobsmacked_ it sparks a guilty sort of glee in your chest, dim but insistent. You try not to show it on your face. "Wh-what?" he stammers.

"What I said," you tell him. "Actually, here's another thought: what excites you more, o prince? That these 'Lightners of Legend' brought you purpose, or brought you friends?"

"I—" He blinks thrice, mouth snapping shut. He starts tugging at the coil of knit fabric around his neck while he breathes in deep, while one raggedy end of his scarf touches the back of his paw like it's helping him to self-soothe. "Well," he tries again, "I don't... I-I don't see why it can't be a little of both? Those things—both those aspects are important to me."

"Equally?" you prod him.

"That doesn't—" Ralsei's eyes go wide, and with that goes the panic. Ah. "W... why do you ask?"

You shrug, grimacing like you couldn't care less either way.

"Oh my god." As the corners of his mouth dip sternly, the length of scarf that had been on his paw rears back and turns your way, like a snake. "Are you just trying to wrong-foot me for"—he gestures vaguely, broadly—"I don't know, for fun??"

You lift a paw, pseudo-solemn. "Guilty as charged."

He huffs, dealing you an Almighty Glower. "That's kind of a mean game to play," he says.

"Perhaps." You bow your head by way of apology, because now you _do_ feel bad, at least a little. "I'm out of practice with games, which still isn't much of an excuse. But... I can't say it was only for fun, for whatever it's worth. Those _are_ questions I have."

That's apparently enough to make Ralsei's anger melt away and, oh; he really _is_ too nice. This poor boy. "Seam," he says, in soft wondering tones, "are you saying you're _worried_ about me?"

You sigh, just a little. That's not _exactly_ what you were going for, but... "What I'm saying," you start, then pause to lean in—you want to make it crystal clear you're being level with him right now. "What I'm saying, Ralsei, is that I've never seen you this... lively. Not before those Lightners dropped in. And if you ever intend to have a life outside the bounds of some stuffy old prophecy, you'll need to think about all the ways you take care of yourself. Or don't, as it were."

Ralsei's brows squinch together. "I don't... think I follow."

"Then I'll rephrase: how fine are you with losing your life to the prophecy? Or something else you can't afford to lose, if that's what it calls for?" You lean in a touch further. "What about surrendering any of those things to one of _them_? Legendary Heroes or no, are you at peace with that?" You recline, slouching a little. "Some food for thought."

"... _Whew_. Okay." He exhales, long and hard, floppy hat shoved backward as he cards his fingers through the tuft of fur on his head. "I appreciate the concern, I really do," he says, right before looking you straight in the eye. "But you need to understand that I don't have much of a choice in any of this. I was _literally born_ to help fulfill the prophecy, come what may. It's... all I have. Susie and Kris get to have lives outside of it while I don't, and I need to be okay with that. I am! Maybe I'll get to do more once we've accomplished everything we need to, but until then... they're Lightners, Seam. I have an obligation. You get that, don't you?"

"I do," you say evenly. "But that's also the thing of it, huh? You live and subsist here in the Dark, but"—you stop to give him a once-over—"don't take this the wrong way, it's just the truth of the matter. You're not... _made_ like the rest of us. Not quite."

He flinches. It could be your eyes playing tricks, but you could swear that his glamour is... it's wavering, in spots: a splash of pink on his nose, streaks of white on his left ear and right cheek. If you _aren't_ mistaken about that, Ralsei manages to pull it back together by the next blink. "I'm sorry," he says, stiffly, "but I don't understand what that has to do with anything."

God, he looks so uncomfortable. Now you really are starting to feel bad. "I just can't help thinking," you say anyway, but gentler, "that you might not be as locked into all this prophetic hoo-ha as you think, just by being what you are." You try to give him as soft a look as you're able. "It would make having friends and looking forward to their company that much easier, wouldn't it?"

This seems to strike an altogether different nerve with him; he goes from poleaxed to even _more_ uncomfortable, to slipping all the way towards... just, tired. His smile settles into a sad one. "That would be nice, yes," he says quietly, "but I think you're overestimating me. By a lot." He suddenly brightens, though it rings a little false to you. "It's okay, though! It really is. Me and Kris and Susie still managed to have fun yesterday, despite all the setbacks. We even started to bond for real! So it's far from all bad. I just... " He sighs, eyes closing for a moment. "All I can do is have faith that the prophecy will keep providing us with the tools we'll need to, well. Not die. And that it won't test any of us beyond our capacity to handle things."

The air rushes out of you like cinched bellows. "That's how it is, then," you say.

"I'm afraid so."

You look at him, and look some more, and an echo of a very, very old and desperate part of you rises to the surface. You say, "Then take it from one lone magician to another, if you want: consider being a little more selfish, unless you're prepared to leave behind an empty corpse for your friends."

And _that_ leaves Ralsei looking nothing short of stricken. He stops meeting your eyes, has no more to say. The longer you watch him stare at his teacup, rubbing a thumbpad along the top of its handle, the more you deflate. Damn it. This is why you usually try to keep to your own, isn't it?

With a low sigh, you extend a paw to lightly pat one of his. "You're not obligated to listen to some tired old Darkner gab off," you tell him. "Forget I said anything."

"No. No no, it's... " He shakes his head, swallows, pinches his eyes shut as he pushes up his glasses to rub his eyelids. "It's not _fine_ exactly, but... I think that was something I needed to hear, one way or another."

You smile at him, lopsided. "I could've stood to work more tact into it, is what _I'm_ hearing."

"Probably." He smiles back. "I'm not mad, though. The truth is... I don't know how much you've heard about yesterday, but while we were fighting the King, I—I messed up. All three of us learned that the hard way." He winces, presumably at the memory. "I felt _horrible_. Susie saw it coming in a way, but she was nice enough to not rub it in my face. She actually helped clarify things for me, even after we'd spent so much time, uh. Getting on each other's nerves, to be honest. That's more than enough proof I could stand the constructive criticism"—he eyes you meaningfully—"especially from someone who seems to know what they're talking about."

You sit back a little. "That's a flattering vote of confidence," you say. "Don't know if I've earned it."

"Well, if you ask me, you should give yourself more credit." He folds his arms primly. " _That_ I won't be accepting criticism on."

You bark a laugh. "Fair! Fair, I guess."

The air more or less cleared, Ralsei nudges his teacup back towards you. Or rather, his scarf does (does he even realize he's doing that half the time?? so strange). "You know," he says, sounding thoughtful, "I'm not sure if this is rude and you can tell me if it is, but... I've never seen you talk about the future like it matters before. Or act so serious. That really surprised me."

"I'm glad at least one of us can still appreciate surprises." After a moment though you hum, stroke the ratty fringe under your chin as you consider a real answer. You'd hate this kid for making you all _pensive_ if you could (you can't). "I haven't changed my mind on anything," you finally say. "But you said it yourself—none of that means I can't wish you the best. Being doomed ain't the same as not hoping you'll be able to care for you and yours before it all comes crashing down."

Ralsei ducks his head. He still looks thoughtful, though something else is breaching his face that you can't read at first. "That does make sense," he says. Then, "The same goes for you, by the way! I mean, logically speaking, but also because that's _my_ wish."

Ah. Of course. "You first," you shoot back. "I've got my hobbies and you've got your work cut out for you, fabled Prince from the Dark."

If he plans to take you to task for deflecting, you don't get to find out. You're both distracted by voices filtering in from somewhere outside your shop. It's... actually it's just one voice, by and large. It's obvious they're not alone though. Whoever-it-is still sounds a good ways off, but...

"Is that—" Ralsei cuts himself short with a little gasp. "I... hold on, I need to—I'll be right back," he says, then swings away from you to scurry off. You half expect him to leave altogether, but he stops at the end of your entryway to poke his head outside. You squint after him, waiting.

Or "anticipating" is more like it, since it's not much of a wait; Ralsei sprints back to you in a matter of seconds. "That was Susie and"—he skids to a halt in front of your counter, all aflutter, mood bright—"I'm not sure how they made it all the way out here by themselves but... they're back. They're both back!! I wasn't expecting them so _soon_ , I—" He stills, then pats his cheeks as fine worry lines crease the corners of his mouth. "I'm not ready at all," he says. "I still have all these cupcakes to hand out and... maybe they'll be okay coming with, though? I'll have to ask. Gosh." He gives his cheeks another pat, exhales, makes to reach for his cupcake tray before he stops to turn guilty eyes on you. "Oh... oh no, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't just cut and run. Maybe I could—"

You clap a paw to his shoulder. He jolts under the sudden weight, but the tension leeches out of him as you burr a laugh. "Ralsei," you say, "I'm not going anywhere. Be with your friends if that's what you want." You let your smile turn wry. "It's not like I've ever stopped you from leaving anyway."

He laughs after a moment, vaguely embarrassed. "I guess you're right," he says.

An urge strikes you, and you follow through by giving Ralsei... some sort of pat on the shoulder, awkwardly, just the once. You withdraw before his scarf has a chance to return the favor (you see the end that had reached out for you droop, then drift like a leaf to lie inert against Ralsei's body again). Ralsei himself turns away with a faint blush, snatches up his tray and starts to head out.

He doesn't get far before pausing to look back at you. "Um. In case it wasn't clear," he says, "you've given me a lot to think about, and despite everything I really appreciate that. Thank you."

You flap a dismissive paw. "It's just a nice bonus whenever sharing tea with someone gets... productive, I guess you could say."

He snorts a giggle, smile warm as he gives you one last nod. Then he takes his leave for real, scarf fluttering a goodbye wave in his wake. From there it's like he can't get outside and with the others fast enough.

"Drop in again soon," you call after him. An "Or don't" almost follows that, but—this once, you refrain. He knows the deal by now. Why tack on something that just belabors the point? Besides...

Well. Besides which—and this is if you're being entirely honest, not just telling yourself you don't care either way—you kind of think it would be nice, to see the prince and those kids again, before the world finally catches up and eats them alive. That's one hope you can cop to.

**Author's Note:**

> If "[a] pitch and rainbow-shimmery glamour" didn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone, [this right here](http://lightrises.tumblr.com/post/180294259982) is basically what I had in mind, aha. (Also a hat-tip to [feralphoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralphoenix/pseuds/feralphoenix) for the headcanon that ralsei's black fur is a glamour instead of abstracted shadows!!)
> 
> The title comes from Sufjan Stevens' ["Fourth of July"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTeKpWp8Psw).


End file.
